


playing your games

by KendallNS



Category: The Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: Blood, F/M, Oral Sex, Stabbing, blunt force trauma, death but he doesn't stay dead so it doesn't really count, hate sex to the max, suffocation, this is very fucked up
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-20
Updated: 2017-12-20
Packaged: 2019-02-17 16:22:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13080684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KendallNS/pseuds/KendallNS
Summary: a smutty two-shot of Bonkai for a holiday present for someone in a secret santa. It's very violent.





	playing your games

**Author's Note:**

> This is your warning that this is very likely a triggering fic due to graphic violence and slightly graphic sexual content. I do not claim ownership over TVD or any of it's characters.

She wouldn’t let him out, he wouldn’t let her out of sight.

That was the silent agreement they came to--even if it came to odds that she would constantly run. He would give chase.

Being stuck together on a barren planet didn’t leave them with many rules. They stayed within the country, sometimes in the same state, but never for long. They would have split the world in half if she knew how to fly a plane. Sometimes he would take her to those places. Dump her in a palace, taunt her about how she sacrificed everything for someone who was by all means a princess in a small town.

It wasn’t something she realized she didn’t like. That age old jealousy burning in the pit of her stomach. That’s how he would make her chase him. That’s how he got her to pin him to one of the stone brick walls. Her hands covered in gloves and the sheerest material covering her arms. The most minimal way of protecting herself from him. It made him smirk.

That was their first kiss, his bloodied lips against her cupid’s bow before she slammed the back of his skull so hard against the brick that it caved in.

Tag, you’re it.

He chased her through London, if the new skid marks on the bleak roads weren’t evident enough. It was like she wanted him to come after her. Like she was starting to enjoy this. The thought sent a thrill through his skin. When he heard her voice, she was taunting him this time. About how Damon would have caught her by now. How Jeremy would have. How every single other man who disappointed her in life would have.

Worthless.

She didn’t care how far she took it. How much red he saw.

No, she liked this. Making him angry. Having his hands spanning over the flesh of her stomach when he threw her into the ground. There was something raw and bittersweet about the pain that came from his siphoning. How he relished in her scream, how much she wanted to kick him up, but her body just gave a sort of spasm. How he let go before she could pass out.

Her ragged breathing echoing against his. His pupils huge from the sheer amount of power he took from her. This time she kissed him. Well, it was technically a kiss. Her lips brushed his, but then her teeth bit down into his lip. Clashed against his. Swallowing his growl and trying to roll them over so she could be on top. So she could control this, but he knew better. He pinned her down with his hips and she reached up and twisted her fingers into his hair, yanking to pull him back. Hard.

That’s when she managed to roll them over. His hands already moving to yank down her trousers. It wasn’t her idea to be yanked up to sit on his jawline. She could smother him like this. Could just press down hard enough and break his nose. Let him suffocate under her. The thought left her the instant he used a burning spell to make her panties snap off. This wasn’t anything she could imagine on her own. Riding a guy’s face in the hallway of some English castle? It hadn’t been on her bucket list, but she wasn’t regretting it so far. But then again that could be the blood loss. Or the way his tongue felt against her.

All coherent thought ceased when his lips wrapped around her clit after a few seconds of fumbling to find it. Her sharp gasp was a give away. He tried to touch her. He wanted to reach up and grab her thighs, dig his nails in. Leave bruises and scratches for her to feel later in the chase. But she pinned his hands to the wall behind him. So that just left him slurping and moaning and mumbling against her cunt, occasionally kicking his feet up to give himself leverage.

Her hips bucking and not giving him any room to breathe. It sent her in a spiral of power and that just made her more hot. More, more, more--her words were barely discernible from swears, moaning, and little shouts from the way his teeth would drag over her clit. The way he glared up at her made her think it was a promise. It just made her come harder.

Her breathing hard and just barely lifting from his mouth to give him that time to catch his breath. A smile pulling at her cupid’s bow of a mouth before she leaned back, sitting on his neck this time. Letting her full weight lay on his jugular. Her hands tight on his wrists as he struggled beneath her. Little gasps pulling from his lips. He kicked and flailed, but she didn’t move. Her knees bracketing his ears to hold his head still so she could watch.

Why did she want to watch?

Why was this so satisfying?

Especially after what he just did--it just felt so much better now.

What was better than getting a cherry on top of an orgasm?

That fracturing spell from her lips with ease and he let out another shout of pain, his arms now out of function as she used her hands to pinch his nose and cover his mouth. Time to speed this up. Once he stopped struggling beneath her, she didn’t stop. Once she couldn’t feel his breath against her palm, she didn’t stop. Even when she couldn’t feel his pulse.

He could be tricking her again. God only knew.

But once fifteen minutes passed, she was sure it was enough.

So she was up on her feet and shucked off her ruined panties, flinging them onto his body before pulling her trousers back up and making to run out.

When he found her it was two weeks later and she was hotwiring a car. She didn’t even see him coming when he injected the sedative into her neck. But those wide eyes made him smile. God, she was pretty when she was scared. When she was mad. When she wanted him dead.

He flew them to Australia where she made him freeze to death. Where she wouldn’t touch him, but her rasp of a voice through a phone receiver--telling him exactly what she wanted to do to him. How she would kill him afterwards again. It always left him wanting and hard.

They were half-way across the ocean when she woke up too quickly and nearly ambushed him in the Captain’s cabin of the airplane he stole. But she was caught unaware by the view.

And the reality that if she hurt him now that they would both die. She would die.

It was the silence that disturbed her the most. He usually didn’t stop talking.

So she went back into the passenger’s cabin and pulled out one of the emergency masks, getting down into the makeshift garrote. It would be back to his usual games once they landed.

Except the moment they landed, she couldn’t find him.

The clear tubing wrapped around her fingers, ready.

But it wouldn’t make her ready for a dagger flying into her gut. Of course, he siphoned her when she was unconscious. She fell to her knees and her vision blurred, looking up at him as he yanked the knife out and looked at her blood with an odd sort of fascination.

“I’m done playing games, Bon Bon.”

The next thing she knew, she was alone. 


End file.
